#cause we have taken control of this fandom now

[biceratops7]

I’m gonna SCREAM-

We’ve already established as a fandom that Metatron could teach a masterclass on gas lighting, but I wanna talk about how he specifically validates the things Aziraphale cares for while simultaneously devaluing them under the surface.

First off, this moment?

Tells us everything we need to know. It sets the scene for exactly the games Metatron is playing. He makes Muriel feel important while openly insulting them (flat out calling them stupid), aka seamlessly reinforcing the idea that they’re less than to both them and anyone else in the room. He knows he can get away with this easily, he knows that Muriel, lonely, overlooked little Muriel, will be completely distracted by the fact that someone so important is taking an interest in them.

This is already horribly clever, but then later on you realize it’s doing even MORE heavy lifting when he appoints Muriel to run the bookshop. “See? What’s important to you is what’s important to me! I’ve graciously taken the time to ensure your beloved shop is looked after by Muriel. You know, the dim one!” …let’s suffice it to say he’s ensnared too birds with one net for this one, and that a pattern is already starting to arise.

So when Metatron says Gabriel came to Aziraphale because he’s a “natural leader” and “doesn’t just tell people what they wanna hear”? Yah he’s full of shit. Aziraphale struggles with his sense of purpose when he doesn’t have someone or something guiding him, and for thousands of years he’s been terrified of sharing his true feelings and opinions to 90% of people he’s known. Completely just trying to butter him up. Wanna know the real reason Gabriel seeks asylum with Aziraphale?

Exactly this. Gabriel just says so point blank. It’s not because Aziraphale is this person for him, it’s because despite knowing nothing, he has this instinct that Aziraphale is the only one who can possibly understand why Gabriel did what he did. He is, I mean as far as we know, the only other angel who has fallen in love. (In general, let alone with a demon.)

But nope, can’t have that. We can throw the promise of restoring Crowley in the mix to sweeten the pot, but we can’t acknowledge why he’d want that so badly in the first place. So now it’s cause they work so well together. We can praise the angel for the fallen archangel Gabriel himself coming to him protection and guidance, give him a gold star. But we couldn’t DARE imply that it was by virtue of Aziraphale’s courage to choose earthly love over heavenly. How Gabriel didn’t need a leader, but a friend who’s truly known the joys of adoring that “particular person” and the pain of needing to hide it.

Cause then Aziraphale would start getting crazy ideas, like that his silly little human feelings have a great deal of worth. That they have the power to inspire, form cracks in the institution, fundamentally weaken what has controlled and harmed him. We wouldn’t want him to know the true value of the cards he holds when he has the ace in a match against you, now would we? After all…

Metatron uses this ingeniously sinister tactic of taking away Aziraphale’s choice while giving the illusion that he’s actually opening up doors. Notice how he tells Aziraphale he would have the authority to do something as extraordinary as turn a demon into an angel, yet he never once puts the much simpler alternative of just working with a demon on the table? The sleight of hand here is that he’s being offered the opportunity to freely be with Crowley… but he’s already freely with him as is, no bargain to be made. In fact he fought to be. Metatron disappears this accomplishment right before our eyes, while seamlessly maintaining the illusion to Aziraphale that he (Zira) is in control.

He sets Aziraphale up for failure by only providing the option he knows Crowley will not only decline but be deeply hurt by. It’s all so cleverly planned. Once this plays out exactly how he wants, he delivers the finishing blow by diminishing Crowley and his “damned fool questions”. Suddenly doing a complete 180 and emphasizing how foolish and troublesome he is. Metatron was offering Crowley by Aziraphale’s side as The Carrot. Now he’s telling Aziraphale it was stupid of him to want The Carrot, un-heavenly.

Aziraphale’s life, love, happiness, it’s all not only a massive inconvenience for Metatron but a liability. He has successfully taken a weapon from Aziraphale’s hands he didn’t even know he had. Metatron sees the writing on the wall, and he wants it contained.

[itmeblog]

It's Black History Month

(Over here in the US of A) So here are some podcasts to check out.

Absolutely no Adventures - a fantasy (un)adventure story that follows Sig, the owner of Signature Eats bakery, as he aggressively avoids becoming embroiled in any daring quests or chosen one shenanigans even though the universe really seems to want him to do just that. This is a story about cutting Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey off at the knees to chill with friends and staying far, far away from the slightest whiff of adventure. And also baking. This is also a story about baking.

Afflicted - Lovecraft Country meets True Blood in this new series from award-winning producers Tonia Ransom and Jen Zink. In season one, a small East Texas town suffers supernatural disasters caused by a demonic book bound in human flesh…and only hoodoo can save the town from its affliction.

Apollyon - In the early 22nd century, the Apollyon virus wiped out 75% of the world’s population, and now most of the world is governed by the International Conglomerate of Research Scientists. Dr. Theo Ramsey is an ICRS research scientist who may have just discovered an effective vaccine for Apollyon, but the stakes to get the vaccine to the public are higher than she ever imagined.

Between Heartbeats - Tan immersive Urban Fantasy about the hurt, the powerful, and their growth within a broken world. We follow Sundiata, a guilt-ridden time manipulator with a knack for unemployment, and Nadia, a moralistic telepath determined not to lose control, as they balance frayed mental health against an unsympathetic police state. But when a malevolent presence rears is head, their neuroses become the least of their problems. Can our heroes make the most of their abilities before the option is taken from them?

Fan Wars: The Empire Claps Back - Two passionate Star Wars fans on opposite sides of the Last Jedi debate argue via Skype after their favorite forum closes down. If you love Star Wars (or call yourself a proud member of any fandom), you’ll love this romantic comedy told via

Harlem Queen - a Black historical fiction audio drama based on the life and times of Black, woman, "gangster" Madame Stephanie St. Clair during the Harlem Renaissance.

His Royal Fakin' Highness - What if Ophelia helped Hamlet get his throne back? This modern day, romantic comedy re-imagining of Shakespeare's Hamlet asks just that. As they stage an engagement in the wake of the king's death, these childhood frenemies must decide between duty and love.

InCo (This one's mine :D) - A Sci-Fi story about a disgruntled information seller, a mysterious space boy, and an android doing her best.

Janus Descending - a limited series, science fiction/horror audio drama podcast, follows the arrival of two xenoarcheologists on a small world orbiting a binary star. But what starts off as an expedition to survey the planet and the remains of a lost alien civilization, turns into a monstrous game of cat and mouse, as the two scientists are left to face the creatures that killed the planet in the first place.

Lady Lucy - Lady Lucy is an audio drama inspired by Shakespeare's "Dark Lady" Sonnets, 127-154. Between running her brothel, fighting the Church, murdering her friends' abusive husbands, and pretending to be a poet, the last thing Lucy needed back in 1586 was a surprise visit from her former flame... Will Shakespeare.

Liars and Leeches - Tonya Wright felt it all after the tragic murders of her sister and brother-in-law in a random act of gun violence. Struggling to travel outside of her home, she now lives constantly on edge about perceived threats that seem to surround her.

Nightlight - Multi-award winning horror podcast featuring creepy stories with full audio production written by Black writers and performed by Black actors. So scary it’ll make you want to leave your night light on.

Null /Void - a science fiction audio drama about a young woman, Piper Lee, whose life is saved by a mysterious voice named Adelaide. Piper soon uncovers a malicious plot by a monopoly of a tech company and must work with her friends and an unusual ally to help foil their deadly plot.

Out of Ashes - (currently remastering season 1) Follow a group of survivors as they navigate the ruins of modern civilization and battle against demons, ghosts, monsters and the looming threat of extinction from an ancient power.

Small Victories - A recently recovered drug addict tries to start her new lease on life, too bad life has it out for her.  This dramatic comedy follows Marisol through the ups and downs of her life.

The Courtship of Mona Mae - In the 1870s, pioneers Mona Mae Christophe and Zekial Montgomery search the American West for Mona Mae's mother, Clara. Mona must recall a past, long forgotten in order to survive, so that she can find her mother, love and create a way of life for herself.

Vega a Sci-Fi Adventure Podcast - In a fantasy futuristic world, Vega Rex is employed by her government to kill off the world's worst criminals. She's never met a criminal she couldn't catch…until now. Join Vega as she journeys through a world of bumbling apprentices, powerful technogods, and her biggest challenge yet. Hosted by Ivuoma Hall.

Witchever Path - is an anthology series where your decisions effect the story. Our stories are based in America’s NorthEast, featuring characters finding themselves in the thick of the unknown while tackling issues like queer identity, gender, race, and spirituality. Stories often focus on the communities not typically seen in stories taking place in New England, and giving voice to the perspectives of those communities while uniting under some universal themes. And the supernatural happens. A lot.

(All descriptions were taken from websites)

If you want to find more and there are way more there's a directory :D

[jewish-vents]

swiftie fandom was my safest space since 2008, where I felt happy and went for gentleness. I was hurt she didn’t say anything after the horror of the 10/7 pogrom, but now I’m beyond that and prefer her silence. at least then I can pretend one of the biggest artists in the world doesn’t want me and her Jewish and Israeli fans dead. even if that’s not true and she hates us, she hasn’t said it so I would rather it stay that way. but the fandom is unbearable. it’s gotten too big and too toxic for a lot of reasons, but the antisemitism is out of control. the Jew hatred I witnessed from my ex mutuals in that fanbase traumatized me to some degree. then at a show in Warsaw (of all fking places, right?) last week, a bunch of Israelis traveled to see her, and fans online were responding to this with “she needs to know so she can ban genociders from attending,” “we should not allow zionists to feel safe at shows,” “I wish all the zio fans a very happy death.” and I’ve seen nonstop hate directed at random Jews in the fanbase. if they have a Magen David in their profiles they get called colonizers and baby murderers. they’re told not to interact. that the music should be taken from them, often in violent ways (like “I’d drive spikes into their ears”). they’re pushed out of discords. they could not make it more clear that Jews not only aren’t welcome with them but they actively would like to see them harmed or killed. I’ll never get my safety back. I’ll never really say I’m a fan again, because I don’t want to be associated with these people. I wish they could understand the pain they’ve caused and what they’ve taken. I know they wouldn’t care though.

.

[ohhsaki]

SM single handedly ruined riize's career, riize worked so hard to build a stable fanbase in the past year but now the fandom is divided, the minority is loud in such a gruesome way, they want more and more control over riize, they are quite literally bullying riize, as soon as any of the members start to act in a way they dont want them to, they start to dismiss the members, both riize and we know that they bullied seunghan out of the grp and they could do the same to other members too. SM had so many better ways to handle this situation, seunghan shouldnt have been put on hiatus to begin with, they should have sued people, i mean riize's privacy was getting invaded even before their debut, like i was there and every other day somebody would post something true or not, sm should have taken the actions then,they shouldnt have made seunghan apologize 4 fucking times cause tht just played right how these 6ullies wanted it to be, it made them think tht they have over riize, it made seunghan feel like he was a burden to his grp, it should have never come to the funeral wreaths, but SM is fucking dumb. But even now? i am 99% sure if not 100% tht SM hasnt sued anyone yet and i dont think they will, removing seunghan not even after 2 days? but we have been loud for a whole month, yet they arent bringing him back. SM had one job, the assignment was due 4 weeks ago now points will be deducted. and if yall are doubting the boycott dont cause it is working riize was in the 11th place and now they are at the 35th and this for sure is making sm's pockets hurt so dont stop now cause we are so close.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Rusty | Chapter 11 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - Just an FYI - the fics being posted now were finished months ago. I haven't written anything for the fandom in quite a long time and at present have no drive to do so. Once Midnight and Rusty are finished posting that will be it from me for the forseeable. Thank you for coming along for the ride.

Chapter Summary - Spencer pushes through another barrier on his way to recovery. But when a face from his past shows up out of the blue it threatens to destroy everything between the two of you.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - male masturbation, Spencer’s incredibly dirty thoughts, brief mention of three ways, handjobs, oral sex (f receiving) and penetrative sex (both p in v and p in a) all by way of Spencer’s imagination (Spencer is basically writing his own smut fic in his head), self inflicted wounds, talk of weight loss, swearing, arguing, yelling, tears, sad Luke, bit of a cliff hanger ending. WC - 7.6k

Chapter 11 - All My Ex's Live in Texas

The sentiment, to be able to love someone we must first learn how to love ourselves, felt oddly poignant in this moment, as Spencer stood in his bedroom, in front of the full-length mirror tucked away in his closet. 

It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, he often gave himself a cursory glance before he left the lodge of a morning, giving himself a brief once over. 

It also wasn’t something he made a habit of doing. He kept the mirror inside the closet for the purposes of not having to look at himself for long periods of time. 

But this was for entirely therapeutic purposes. 

And the idea of having to love oneself before allowing others into our heart rang true in an entirely different way. 

Spencer needed to be able to engage himself physically before he could expect anyone else to do the same. 

It had been four days since his trip to Doctor Ortega’s office. In those four days the two of you had participated in a string of increasingly heavier make out sessions, three of which fervent enough to yet again cause Spencer to come in his pants, but as yet had not graduated onto anything more intimate. 

Yesterday the two of you had ridden your respective mares into Pipe Creek for Spencer to collect his new prescription and Doctor Ortega had caught him on his way out. 

She’d taken him aside and reminded him that in order to take back control of his own body, he had to truly own it himself before he frivolously tried to hand it over to someone new. 

And that’s what led him here. Standing in front of his full-length mirror, naked as the day he was born. 

The only part of his body that was concealed was his casted arm, he’d even gone as far as to remove the dressings from his bicep, thigh and stomach. 

The wounds were all at various stages of healing, scabbing over and starting to scar. They would all leave their marks upon his skin for the rest of his life, a constant reminder that he’d been to hell but was desperately trying to claw his way back. 

He focused on them for longer than necessary, trying to distract his mind from the task at hand for as long as he possibly could. You’d gone to the grocery store with Rusty and wouldn’t be back for a while. He had time for his introspective. 

He inspected each cut with a keen eye, taking note of how each brandished him, pictured what they’d look like once solid and pink against his alabaster flesh. 

This was not an activity Spencer relished. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at his naked form in such a manner. It felt clinical. Yet another experiment. 

Spencer liked experiments so he tried to keep that in mind as he took himself in as a whole before slowly ingesting each individual facet that made the full Spencer Reid picture. 

Start at the top, work his way down. Cold, removed, distant. 

Still got a good head of hair, not like William. Good hair. Thick hair. No greys. Almost forty and no greys. That’s pretty good going considering the stress I’ve been under. 

Nice eyes. Friendly eyes, that’s what JJ called them. Or was it kind eyes? Nice no less. Brown with gold flecks mom always used to point out. 

Bags under the eyes aren’t so nice. When did they get so purple? I look like I’ve never slept a day in my life. 

Nose. Lips. Chapped lips, such dry lips. How does Y/N kiss me? Need to buy chapstick. Must remember to buy chapstick. 

Need to shave. Or do I? I don’t hate the stubble, it makes me look tougher. Wonder what Y/N’s opinion on it is? Maybe I should ask her. 

His eyes trailed slightly lower to his torso. 

Still so skinny. Didn’t I put on weight? Where did that go? Mom always says I look like I’m not eating. Have I been eating? When did I get this skinny?

Lost weight in prison. Couldn't eat after…my mouth was always too sore. Thought I’d put it back on. Did I lose it again? How? When? 

He raised his hand in absent-mindedness and ran his fingers along the visible bones of his sternum, protruding through his milky skin. He pulled a face and dropped his hand again, somewhat unamused. 

His eyes briefly flitted back over the cut on his left side, garnering his attention once again before flicking to his stomach. 

Definitely lost weight, but how? Hip bones are more prominent. Got one of those little v-cut muscles I was always jealous of on Luke. Did I get that from riding? It does require core strength. I’ve never noticed it before. 

He continued quickly past the appendage where his attention was supposed to be, down to his legs. He’d always had strong thighs, thick thighs but they were somehow even meatier than he remembered. 

Is that from riding too? Must be. Good legs, definitely not terrible legs. Sturdy. Load bearing. 

I’m stalling. 

He closed his eyes with a loud huff, feeling incredibly self conscious all of a sudden. Opening his eyes again he forced his gaze between his legs where his flaccid member hung in a bed of pubic hair. 

And here we are, the thorn in my side. The bane of my goddamn existence. My…

…it’s not gonna get hard if you berate it. 

He grit his teeth and stared almost aggressively at the length of flesh and muscle between his legs. 

Masturbation should not be this difficult. 

It felt forced. He wasn’t aroused, not even a little. On the occasions in his life he had turned to self pleasure, it was only because he was incredibly horny, which wasn’t a regular occurrence for him unless he was in the act itself. 

He’d never just sat and thought I’m bored, maybe I could jerk one off. What was normal protocol here? 

His new phone had the internet and he would probably be able to look up a porn site. But what porn? Spencer didn’t even know what kind of porn he liked. 

He found both men and women attractive, where would he even begin? In an ideal world, what kind of sexual desire would…oh…oh! 

He stared at his cock as it twitched very slightly, heart beat picking up at the simple thought. He kept his eyes trained downwards while he contemplated it again. 

I like both men and women, I find them equally attractive. Specifically one man and one woman so what if I could have both? 

Again he twitched, before his very eyes his cock started to swell. His mouth fell open, chest heaving with his breaths. 

Y/N and Luke? Together? And me. All three of us. Together. Touching. Kissing. Or I could just watch, I’d be pretty happy to watch. 

Again he was amazed by the sudden jerk of his shaft, swelling slowly but surely. 

Oh this could work. I think this might work. 

He wrapped his hand around his shaft without too much thought in case he might talk his way out of this. He was only semi-erect but the speed in which it had happened meant he could be fully aroused in no time. 

He kept his eyes open, trying to force himself to watch as he started his slow strokes but his mind was wandering quickly down a sinful rabbit hole. 

Standing over them while she straddles him, her bare thighs pressed against his bare thighs, taking hold of his hard cock in her hand. 

Hearing Luke moan as his Adam’s apple bobs at her touch. Her beautiful, petite hand, unable to wrap all the way around his shaft. But she tries, she tries so hard. She wants to make him feel good, wants to give me a show.

Luke’s looking up at me, his eyes blown out with lust. 

“Come closer, cariño, let me touch you.” 

Oh how I happily oblige. 

Whilst she’s stroking Luke I kneel on the bed next to them and Luke is immediately taking me in his own large hand. I moan and my head falls back against my shoulders at his touch. 

He strokes me in time with her strokes on him. The sound of flesh on flesh echoing in the room. Moans and heavy breaths. 

There’s another hand on my jaw, I look at her and she draws me in for a deep kiss. Her tongue explores my mouth while Luke’s hand pumps my cock. 

My other hand finds her breast and I knead it beneath my fingers, pinching her hardened nipple in my hand. 

Yep, that’ll do it. 

He was fully erect in his hand now, stroking himself at an almost furious pace. His hand twisted and tightened, staring at his cock in his own hand in the mirror. 

Laying on my back and she’s on top of me, lowering herself down, slowly, slowly. Inch by inch I watch myself disappear inside her silken walls. I can feel the way her body stretches and pulls around my hard cock. 

Luke is behind her, palming her tits, kissing her neck. She’s whining, moaning because she’s so tight and I’m so big. 

“How does he feel, baby?” Luke whispers against her flesh once I’m completely sheathed inside of her.

“Fuck, he feels so good.” She starts to rock back and forth on top of me, eyes staring intently down at me. 

One of Luke’s hands travels downwards, to the juncture where our bodies meet. His index finger pressing against her clit. 

She vibrates around me, sending shockwaves down my cock. The moan that leaves my lips is nothing short of feral. 

Frantically fisting his own cock whilst imagining the pleasures of being with the both of you and his head was already leaking against hand. He swiped his thumb through it, legs buckling a little at the sensation and using his precum as lube. 

He was gnawing on his lip, watching the way his cock throbbed in his hand. It was a heady sight to behold. He thought he’d be disgusted by it. Was it wrong that it turned him on more? 

He looked good like this, strong, virile, dare he even say, sexy? He felt powerful as he watched his face contort in the pleasure he was bestowing upon himself. His staunch thighs shook beneath him. 

His thick and heavy length pulsed against his palm. 

She’s on her back, legs spread for me. I leave a trail of kisses across her soft skin but I’m in a hurry, I need to get to my final destination. 

Once my face is buried between her folds, I lap up at her arousal before my tongue settles on her swollen bud. She writhes beneath me at the contact, trying to move away. But I stop her with an arm across her abdomen. 

She moans and screams as I take her in my mouth, suckling on her sensitive clit. Like a man possessed I work between her legs, like she’s my favourite meal. 

I can feel a heat behind me, and hands on my hips guiding me up onto my knees. I comply because I’m so wrapped up in the way she tastes on my tongue. 

Then there’s something pressing into me from behind, I’m being stretched but in the best possible way. 

As Luke fills me up I moan into her core, making her squirm. The sounds in the room are melting into the walls, the smell of sex is heavy in the air. 

Luke thrusts into me hard and fast and I take two fingers and plunge them inside of her waiting heat while keeping my mouth on her desperate clit. 

She’s rocking against my face, coating my lips and chin in her arousal as my fingers sink inside of her. 

Luke is grunting as he fucks me, filling me up in a way I haven’t been filled in so long. Between my legs I can feel my cock twitching, pulsing, close to the edge without being touched. 

“Oh fuck,” Spencer mumbled, legs trembling. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ.” 

More precum leaked from his tip, coating his hand as he thought of eating you out while Luke fucked him. His head was hazy, his breaths ragged.

“Fuck, Spence, I’m close. So close.” She screams as I plunge my fingers in and out of her and swipe my tongue over her clit. 

Luke’s thrusts are growing more violent, his balls slapping against my ass. 

“Make her come, Spence. You can do it, cariño.” Luke encouraged me and I pick up my speed.

Soon enough I feel her walls clenching around my fingers and she’s coming undone at my will. She’s convulsing beneath me and I know it’s all because of me. 

And as I feel her coming, moaning my name, my own orgasm starts to pinch at my stomach and I know it won’t be long before I’m…

…“fuck, fuck, fuck!” Spencer screamed as he gripped the base of his shaft and started splattering streaks of his come all over the mirror. 

He kept stroking himself through his orgasm, his legs undulating back and forth as he expelled himself on the reflective surface, covering his hand in his sticky seed. 

He watched every small movement of his body, his quivering thighs, his leisurely strokes on his spent cock, his chest dragging up and down with each shallow breath. 

His brain was foggy but his vision was exceedingly clear. He was fascinated by the way his body moved, how one small ripple in one muscle caused another to flex and so on and so forth. 

The contours of his body seemed so sharp in his post orgasm haze, every pull or push, every pulse, every dilation. 

He’d never looked upon himself with such startling clarity before as his shaft started to soften in his hand, it was all becoming clear.

This is my body. I can see it. I can feel it. My body belongs to me. My body doesn’t belong to anyone but me. 

I am whole. I am whole. 

I am Spencer Reid and I am whole. 

He was so lost in his newfound captivation of his own frame, he didn’t hear you enter the lodge or call his name. He also didn’t hear the bedroom door open or your footsteps on the wooden floor.

It wasn’t until your face appeared in the reflection behind him that he registered his company. 

“Uh, hi?” A smirk adorned itself on your features as you regarded him, soft cock in his hand and the distinctive come stains on the mirror. 

You couldn’t stop your gaze flitting up and down his body. You’d never seen him completely naked before, uninhibited, exposed. 

You tried to make a mental note of every dip and curve of his glorious body. He really was a sight to behold.

“Hi,” he replied, returning your smile. 

“Everything okay here?” 

He let go of his length, turned to face you. His pupils were blown out wide. 

“More than okay.” He nodded. 

And suddenly he advanced on you, smashing his lips against yours and not caring in the slightest that he was naked and sticky with his own come. 

He grabbed at you, pawed at you hungrily. His wandering hands got you out of your clothes in no time at all and soon the two of you were falling back to the bed. 

He was on top of you, kissing you with reckless abandon. He could already feel himself growing hard again between your bodies. 

His tongue desperately explored your mouth as though it were the first time, he manoeuvred you both so he was on his back and you were straddling him. 

He hissed as he got an unhindered sight of your breasts as you sat atop him. Needy hands wandered until they were palming them, pinching your nipples between his deft fingers until they stood to attention, not allowing himself to be impeded by his cast. 

You moaned and rocked back and forth on top of him, his hard cock gliding between your folds. Spencer whined and bucked against you. 

He removed his hands, letting his casted arm fall back to his side. His good hand circled around your wrist, gripping it tight and moving your hand so it hovered above his cock.

You stared at him, silently questioning him. Spencer simply nodded in response and let go of your wrist. 

You sucked in a breath, cautious as you lowered your hand closer to his throbbing member. When your hand wrapped around his base he moaned in fervour. 

His eyes rolled back into his skull, back arching off the bed. You slowly started to move your hand up and down around him but he was soon bucking into your hand, setting the pace for you.

His desperation was evident in the surges of his hips snapping back and forth fiercely. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as his eyes landed on you again. 

He smiled up at you, the ethereal being perched on his thighs whilst working to bring him the utmost pleasure. 

He was whole. He was finally beginning to feel whole. 

***

It was getting late by the time the BAU finally wrapped up in Texas. Luke had agreed with Rossi that he would take one day off to visit Spencer before he joined them back at Quantico. 

Given the hour, Luke intended on getting a hotel for the night in Bandera town. He drove those forty some miles north from San Antonio in his SUV, fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel as he tuned into a country and western radio station. 

The back seat was full of gifts and cards which Garcia had sent to the police precinct for Luke to deliver to their old friend for his birthday which was just a few days away. 

Luke’s nerves flooded his body, causing his stomach to form into tight knots. The closer he got to Bandera, the more anxious he grew, palms sweating against the wheel. 

He was under no illusion that Spencer would be happy to see him, especially with him showing up unannounced. But in Luke’s defence he had tried to call Spencer several times over the last few days to inform him of his visit. It wasn’t his fault Spencer didn’t answer. 

It was nearing eleven pm by the time Luke arrived in Bandera and try as he might he couldn’t get himself to the hotel. 

He couldn’t wait another minute. He needed to see Spencer now. 

He took the turning off the main road with the directions Garcia had sent him. He drove a little ways up a dirt track until he came to a stop next to another car. 

Killing the engine he frowned himself. He didn’t think Spencer had a car. He supposed he could have purchased one any time. 

He slid out of the SUV, dropping to the dirt and closed the door behind him. There was a small single storey lodge a few hundred yards up on the left. 

There was a light on. 

Luke swallowed, smoothing out his shirt and running his fingers through his hair. His chest swelled with nerves and his legs shook a little as he started towards the lodge. 

***

Spencer’s second orgasm seemed to come quicker than the first, your small, dainty hand bringing him to completion in no time at all. Chest heaving with his breaths, he immediately pulled you down by the back of your neck so he could kiss you. 

He was whole. He was whole. They didn’t win. 

He kissed you fiercely, his come sticky between your bodies but neither of you minded. His hand stayed on the back of your neck, pinning you to him. 

“You’re amazing.” He mumbled against your lips. 

“No, you’re amazing.” You replied. 

You wanted to tell him you were proud of him but you didn’t want to make a big deal of it or have him think you were patronising him. Instead you continued kissing him, grinding your bodies together as you did so. 

Spencer felt like every single one of his nerve endings were on fire. He was overstimulated, he could feel every thread of the sheets beneath him, feel every negligible movement of your body as it moved against his own. 

It was eye opening. He’d forgotten how this was supposed to feel. Intimacy wasn’t meant to make him feel guilty, pleasure wasn’t designed to cause him pain. 

He’d neglected to remember how it should feel. Two bodies coming together, becoming one. Becoming whole. 

He felt as though he could well be floating, his body lighter than air. He needed more. He needed so much more. He needed everything and he needed it with you. 

He gripped the back of your neck firmly, tongue roughly exploring the deepest recesses of your mouth. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room alongside soft moans and the friction of skin on skin. 

And for the second time that night, Spencer didn’t hear the door to his cabin open or the heavy footsteps on his hardwood floor.

***

Worryingly, Luke found the door to Spencer’s lodge was ajar, not quite closed all the way. His hand immediately pressed against the butt of his gun in its holster, ready just in case. In his experience, nothing good came from doors being left open. Least of all way out here in the sticks. 

He hesitantly pushed it open and took a step inside. The space was small and mostly full of books which didn’t surprise him at all. There were a few paper grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Nothing looked out of place or disturbed. 

He let his hand fall back to his side, trying to calm his erratically beating heart. Spencer could be scatty sometimes, perhaps he’d just been in a hurry. There was nothing to panic about. 

He stepped closer towards the closed door past the kitchen, for which he assumed was the bedroom. It was only as he drew closer that he started to register the sounds of heavy breathing.

His first thought was that Spencer might be having a panic attack. He’d had them a lot after prison, Luke knew all too well what they looked like. Perhaps he’d started to have one when he arrived home with groceries, it would explain why the door wasn’t closed properly and why the bags were still on the counter. 

Another wave of unease washed over him and he quickly pushed open the door without a second thought. 

The two bodies on the bed came into view and Luke felt as though the whole world came crumbling down around him in a single second. The body on top with their back to him was definitely female. The body beneath, laying on the bed was obscured from view but Luke would recognise those soft moans anywhere. 

“Wow,” he croaked out the single word as tears flooded his vision. 

Spencer suddenly sat up in bed, glaring at Luke over your shoulder. His mouth fell open, eyes wide in shock at the ghost standing in his doorway.

“L-Luke?” He stuttered. 

“Luke?” You hissed without looking over your shoulder. “As in…?” 

“Hmm.” Spencer nodded. 

You were still in his lap, trying to hide your naked frame against Spencer’s. You needed to leave. You couldn’t be part of this. You swung yourself off of the bed and in one swift move sprinted to the bathroom before you could give this stranger an eyeful. 

You’d left Spencer exposed and he quickly pulled the sheet around his body despite the fact Luke had seen him naked hundreds of times before. He hadn’t seen this version of him though, the one with the cuts and scabs from self abuse. He stared at Luke and Luke and him. Seconds seemed like hours.

He noticed Luke’s gaze flicker down to his arm and his brows pinched together.

“What happened to your arm?” Luke asked in concern. 

Spencer didn’t know whether he meant the cast or the cut on his bicep but he didn’t ask. 

“Riding accident.” Spencer clenched his jaw. “What are you…why are you here?” 

“We were in town for a case. I tried to call, you didn’t answer. The door was open and I thought something might have happened to you.” The hurt in Luke’s voice was palpable and Spencer felt a little guilty that he’d had to walk into this. 

“Uh, lemme get dressed okay? I’ll meet you outside?” Spencer chewed on the tip of his tongue, half thinking his overstimulated brain was imagining the man in front of him. 

Had he given over so entirely to his fantasy that it had begun to feel real? Was this all part of his vivid speculation? Was he in fact still masturbating in front of his mirror? 

No, it was all too real. The sadness in Luke’s eyes, the way his shoulders slumped with the weight of seeing his ex in bed with someone else. The way you’d so hurriedly scampered off to the bathroom. 

This was real life, even if it did feel like a nightmare. 

Luke nodded stiffly and turned about on his heels. Spencer watched his retreating form pad out of the bedroom and close the door behind him. 

Spencer got to his feet and started gathering up his clothes from the floor. He tapped on the bathroom door as he was fighting with his boxers.

“Are you okay?” He called when he got no answer. 

“Your ex is here, what do you think!” You hissed in response. 

“I had no idea he was coming here, Y/N. I didn’t invite him.” He was stuffing his legs back in his jeans, trying to ignore the way the fabric scratched his open wounds. 

“What the hell is he doing here then?” 

“I don’t know! I have no idea.” He grabbed his t-shirt whilst still working on the button of his jeans. “I need to deal with this, hopefully I won’t be long.” 

“Okay.” You whispered, hearing his footsteps head away from the door. 

He pulled the t-shirt down over his torso as he swung open the bedroom door. Through the window in the front door he could see Luke pacing the length of his porch. 

Spencer exhaled, raking his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it from his previous activities. He swallowed around his dry tongue and stepped towards the door. 

A frigid burst of air hit him as he stepped outside, joining Luke on the porch. Luke stopped in his tracks and glanced at Spencer. Even in the darkness he could see the tears in Luke’s eyes. 

“So, you’ve moved on, huh?” Luke folded his arms across his chest. 

“It’s been two years, what did you expect?” Spencer shrugged. 

He hated that even after all this time Luke could still cause all the air to leave his lungs. He looked much the same as Spencer remembered in his mind's eye that last time he saw him. He had an extra few creases around his eyes, a few more greys peppering his hairline, but otherwise he remained unchanged.

“What did I expect? Well for starters I expected more from you than leaving without a damn word! I expected that you wouldn’t completely cut me out of your life! I expected…maybe I hoped that I wasn’t the only one still pining like an idiot.” He choked back a sob. “So she gets the healed Spencer Reid? She gets to have you now you’ve worked through your trauma? When I was the one that spent a year by your side after, trying to help you? How is that fair?” 

“You think I’m healed?” Spencer’s voice raised a little. “You think I’ve worked through my trauma?”

“It looks that way to me. I seem to remember the last time I tried to get you into that position you pinned my arm behind my back!” Luke spat. 

“You have no idea what this is like for me.” Spencer shook his head angrily. “She is the first person I have been able to get close to and even still I’m terrified I’m only one second away from breaking down at all times. It’s been four years and this is the closest I’ve come to moving past what happened to me but I am by no means suddenly shiny and new. I haven’t had sex with her, is that what you want to hear? At this point I’m not even sure I can! 

“You can’t just show up here after two years and think you know what I’m going through. I have to take medication every day just so I am not completely crippled by my trauma. I blackout when the stress gets too much, I dissociate because my mind can’t handle the pain. Don’t come here and assume you know what I’m going through. You have no idea.” 

In the bathroom you heard raised voices outside and worried about Spencer’s rising anger and what could happen if he let it get out of control. You snuck back out and found your clothes, quickly redressing and creeping into the living room. 

From the kitchen you could see them through the glass pane in the front door without them being able to see you were watching. You told yourself you weren’t eavesdropping, you just wanted to be ready in case Spencer needed grounding. 

You tucked yourself away in the corner, eyes on the side of Luke’s face. You felt that swell of familiarity again that you couldn’t place. Your fingers kneaded your achy jaw as you listened.

“You were supposed to come back! I gave you time, I gave you space. I thought if I did those things you would come back and we would be okay again.” Luke rubbed his eyes to try and stem his tears.

“That’s not my fault, Luke. I didn’t ever give you a reason to believe that would be the case. I’m sorry I left without telling you, I know I should have said goodbye. But I can’t change that. This is my life now, I have no intentions of coming back to DC. I’m sorry if you thought that I would, but I never gave any indication that I would.” Spencer rubbed his hand on his jeans, focusing on the rough texture. 

He needed to stay tethered, he couldn’t let the anger bubble and cause his mind to detach. 

“Did you love me?” Luke’s voice pitched. “Did you ever really love me like you said you did?” 

You knew that voice, you were sure of it. You just couldn’t place it. 

“How can you even ask me that?” Spencer softened. “Of course I did.” 

“But it was easier for you to run away than try and make things work with the man you supposedly loved?” Luke exhaled. 

“I had to leave. After everything that happened, after Merva, it was just too much. I needed to get away from DC, away from it all.” Spencer sniffed loudly. 

“You could have talked to me instead of running away, Spencer. It’s what I was there for. But you never talked to me.” 

“I couldn’t talk to you, Luke. I couldn’t talk to anyone. I just wanted to forget.” Spencer’s eyes filled with tears and he rubbed his palm roughly against his thigh, focused on the material of his jeans. 

“You know I know what happened right?” Luke shrugged. “I know what happened to you in prison. I read the medical reports.” 

Spencer froze. His rampant rubbing of his thigh stopped, he felt like his breathing stopped. He glared at Luke while he processed his words. 

He’d read the report. He’d known all along. 

Inside your brows pinched together. Prison? Spencer was in prison? Surely you must have the wrong end of the stick? Spencer did not seem like the type. There must be something you were missing. 

“You…how could you?” Spencer croaked. “How could you do that to me?” 

“You wouldn’t talk to me. I was worried about you.” 

“Worried? You were worried? So you invaded my privacy? Those reports were not your concern Luke! I figured Prentiss would have to see them but you…I can’t believe you would do that to me.” Spencer’s voice raised again and felt the anger in his stomach. 

Deep breaths, take deep, calming breaths. One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five. Feel something beneath your hand, ground yourself. This will be okay. One, two, three, four, five.

“Maybe if you’d talked to me I wouldn’t have felt the need to.” Luke didn’t know why he was trying to justify himself, he knew what he’d done was wrong. “How did you ever get cleared to come back to work? You were clearly struggling.” 

“Oh please, we wrote those questions. You think after fifteen years of profiling I didn’t know the right things to say to the bureau shrink so she would reinstate me?” Spencer clucked. 

“Did you ever tell her you were ra-”

“Don’t you dare you say it.” Spencer cut him off. “Don’t you dare.” 

Your head was spinning with the new information. Prison. Profiling. Bureau? What did this all mean? Your cell phone was on the counter next to the bags and you reached for it before hiding back in your corner. The arguing continued outside while you brought up a Google search. 

Spencer Reid + bureau

Within less than a second, hundreds of search results popped up on the little screen, articles upon articles. You quickly skim read some of the search results as your hand shook around the device. 

The youngest academy graduate recruited to the FBI’s illustrious Behavioral Analysis Unit, twenty two year old Doctor Spencer Reid…

With his three PhD’s, and IQ of 187, SSA Doctor Spencer Reid was hand picked by BAU founder Jason Gideon…

After a high speed chase in Mexico the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit are on the scene. It’s thought that a member of the team is involved…

BAU Member SSA Doctor Spencer Reid acquitted of charges against him…

Hostage situation involving two members of the BAU…no further information is known at this time…

Your head swam. Your stomach lurched. This couldn’t be true, yet it was here in black and white. 

You were sleeping with the enemy. The sweet, kind cowboy you’d rescued from the desert was a former FBI Agent. 

Three PhD’s? An IQ of 187? Doctor? 

What the fuck was going on? You knew there were things he hadn’t told you but did you know him at all? And what led to an FBI agent going to prison? And what happened to him in prison that Luke had ascertained from his medical records?

You felt dizzy. You pushed yourself back up against the wall so you wouldn’t collapse. Luke’s raised voice brought you back around.

“You could have told me! I would have understood, I could have helped!” 

“No one can help me! Why don’t you understand that?” Spencer yelled back. 

“She seemed to be doing a fine job.” Luke scoffed, nodding his head towards the door.

“Goddamnit, would you let that go?” 

“Let it go? How the hell can I let that go? Every time I close my eyes I will see her on top of you!” Luke threw his arms up into the air. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be stronger, okay? I’m sorry I pushed you away. But I am finally starting to move past what happened to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you but Y/N is…she makes me feel like I can heal. And I need that Luke, I need to heal.” Spencer sniffed again, feeling his tears dangerously close to falling.

Luke didn’t appear to be listening though, his brows pinched together as he rolled something over in his mind.

“Did you say Y/N?” He rubbed the side of his neck. 

Your back went rigid. Hearing him say your name dislodged something distant in the back of your mind.

“Have you seen this woman? Her name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N and we have reason to believe she’s been seen in this area.”

“Yeah, why?” Spencer’s voice broke through your memory. 

“I…I’m not sure.” Luke looked deep in thought. “Can I…? One sec.” 

Spencer watched in confusion as Luke turned and headed down the stairs towards his SUV. He wrapped his good arm around himself in protection and to stave off the cold night. 

“Have you seen this woman? Her name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N and we have reason to believe she’s been seen in this area.”

“I don’t know nothing, ‘bout nothing.” 

“Can you take a closer look at her photo ma’am? Your neighbour seems to think she’s been staying here.”

“Again, I don’t know nothing, ‘bout nothing.” 

“Would you mind if we took a look around?”

“You got a warrant?” 

“No…”

“Then get the hell off of my property.”

Magnolia Springs, Alabama. Mrs Royce, the kindly old woman for whom your mother had been best friends with all throughout childhood. She’d offered you a place to stay after you escaped custody. That was until her nosy neighbour recognised you from the wanted posters. 

You’d buried your mom’s money under a tree in the wooded area behind her house and watched from a distance as two FBI Agents had come to her home to question her. Even though she hadn’t seen your mother in more years than she could count, Mrs Royce was fiercely loyal, and hadn't said a word. 

You hadn’t had a great vantage point for which to see the agents, only caught small glimpses of them from where you hid in the back of the house. But they’d introduced themselves as -

- Agents Phil Brooks and Luke Alvez. 

Luke was hurrying back from his car with a manilla folder and Spencer stayed stock still while he awaited him. Luke opened the folder and pulled out a sheet of paper which he proffered to Spencer as soon as he was close enough. 

“What is this?” Spencer frowned at the paper.

“Is this the woman? I only saw her from the back. She coulda changed her hair? Is this her?” Luke jabbed a finger at the photograph in the corner of the page. “She escaped from a max security facility a few weeks ago. Phil called me.” 

To Spencer’s credit, no matter how many years it had been since he’d needed to to use his poker face, he was still an expert at it. His expression didn’t even so much as flinch as he looked at the photograph of you on Luke’s printout. 

He was right, you had changed your hair. But it was without a doubt you looking back at him from that mugshot. He glanced away, back at Luke and shook his head.

“No.” He lied. “I’ve never seen this woman before.” 

Luke’s eyes narrowed in scrutiny, watching for any little twitch, any tiny hint that Spencer was keeping something from him. But the truth was, even though they had dated and Luke thought he knew Spencer better than anyone, he never could read Spencer. 

“You wouldn’t lie to me would you, Spencer? Because this woman is dangerous, and if you’re lying to me, that’s harbouring a fugitive. I don’t need to tell you that comes with a prison sentence.” Luke observed again. 

Even at the mention of prison, Spencer’s features didn’t change. 

“I’m telling you Luke, I don’t know this woman.” He waved the paper in front of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

Your own brows pinched together. You peered out the window to see the paper in Spencer’s hand but it was too dark to see exactly what was on it. But you were certain he would know it was you in the photograph. So why was he lying? 

“Right, I’m just being paranoid I guess.” Luke huffed, snatching the paper back from Spencer.

“I think you should go Luke, it's late and you shouldn’t have come here.” Spencer returned his arm to its position wrapped around him. 

“I’m staying down the road for the night. Maybe we can meet tomorrow for coffee or something?” Luke tucked the file under his arm.

“No,” Spencer shook his head. “I don’t want this Luke. I moved out here for a reason, to get away from my life in DC. To get away from…from…”

“From me?” Luke croaked. 

“From everyone.” Spencer corrected him. “You will always have a place in my heart, Luke. I did love you but I’m not the same man I was when we started dating and I’m never going to be him again. You have to let me go, Luke, please? Please just let me go.” 

Luke wanted to argue, he wanted to argue with every fibre of his being. He didn’t drive all the way out here to have it end like this. 

But Spencer’s sad eyes and downturned lips forced him to bite his tongue. Spencer had been through an immeasurable amount of trauma and he was just trying to make it through to the otherside. Luke couldn't help him, he tried, but he’d failed. Perhaps the best thing for Spencer’s wellbeing was for Luke to walk away, to let him go once for and for all. 

Luke huffed a breath out through his nose and took a few steps backwards. He navigated the steps whilst never taking his eyes off of Spencer. 

“I wish it could have been different.” Luke’s first tear fell and he didn’t try to hide it. “You were the love of my life.” 

“I know.” Spencer scrunched his face up as he felt his own tears ready to escape. 

“But I wasn’t yours.” Luke spoke for him with a weak shrug of his shoulders. “I want you to be happy, Spencer, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just promise me you’ll check in? I’m not asking for daily phone calls or anything like that but please stop ignoring me when I reach out. I’d really like to still be a part of your life even if only in a small capacity.” 

“That, uh, sounds reasonable.” Spencer nodded. 

“And call Penelope more. She worries about you more than anyone.” Luke shrugged, still walking backwards toward the SUV. 

“I will.” He nodded, swallowed thickly. But he was sure if you were who he now knew you to be, he’d never be able to talk to any of his old team ever again.

He felt overcome with discomfort. The goodbye he’d avoided two years ago now here at his feet. Spencer didn’t like goodbyes, it was why he’d left without them the first time. 

Goodbyes were endings. Full stops. The closing of a book. Spencer had wanted to keep the story open, unfinished, just in case he ever had the impetus to write that final chapter. But it had been penned for him. Luke had snatched the metaphorical pen from his hand by coming here and effectively completed their story. 

“Uh, goodbye then I guess.” Luke shrugged as he reached the car. 

“G-goodbye, Luke.” Spencer whispered. 

The book slammed shut. Or perhaps it was the car door. Either way, Spencer Reid and Luke Alvez’s story had come to its bitter end. 

He stood on the porch and watched as Luke started the engine before putting the vehicle in reverse. He continued to observe as the headlights cast an eerie glow on his land as the SUV turned around. He still just stood there as Luke’s car took to the dirt track back to the main road and soon vanished from sight. 

He huffed out a breath, rubbed his eyes to disperse the tears before turning to the door and practically throwing it open. He marched inside and found you in the corner of the kitchen, back pressed up against the wall. You’d been listening, of course you had. 

Spencer stayed on his side of the kitchen counter, worried what he might do if he came too close to you. He needed the barrier between you. He slammed his good hand on the counter top but you didn’t even flinch. His eyes were manic as they looked at you, large and wild. His chest was heaving erratically.

He opened his mouth several times to speak but the words kept getting stuck in his dry throat. Minutes of painful silence stretched between you while you kept your eyes on each other. 

Eventually Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, his jaw set in a tight line when he finally spoke. 

“Who the fuck are you?” He spat the words like venom on his tongue. 

You straightened yourself, squared your shoulders as if it might somehow intimidate him. When you spoke it was with equal malevolence. 

“I was going to ask you the same thing, SSA Doctor Spencer Reid.”  

More silence followed, reaching out into the sparse caverns that gorged their way between you. The wicked talons of the unspoken words weaved around you, wrapping you both in their icy clutches. 

You were both acutely aware that whatever conversation was about to transpire between you would inevitably make or break this fledgling relationship. You were no longer who you had been just hours before. A lonely cowboy and a weary traveller no more. All that remained was an FBI Agent and a Fugitive. 

It seemed inescapable that this could only end in one of two ways -

Either he called the cops on you and you were thrown back in prison, having the key thrown away and left to rot for the rest of your life behind bars. Or one of you would wind up dead. 

And you were not going back to prison. 

@kalulakunundrum @small-and-violent @voledart @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @mavellover1819 @babyspiderling

[the-matron-of-ravens]

Aeorians and The Gods are Mirrors of Each other

I've seen a lot of discussion about how contrasting and diametrically opposed the mortals and gods are. And (particularly on CR Twitter) that this is a tragedy of oppressive gods striking down mortals who dared to resist.

Well, I don't think that's entirely accurate. Rather than being opposites of each other I think that the Aeorians in power and the Gods are acting more like mirrors for each other. Reflecting the failings and flaws of the other.

Let's take a look at some of the criticisms that the gods have received from both Aeorians and fandom under the Read More (cause long):

the Gods have hoarded power and abilities and resources from mortals to increase their own power

the Gods have used disproportionate violence against and ignored the plight of mortals because they could/because they hated them

the Gods have taken domain of lands/worlds that aren't theirs and done with them as they want - even at the expense of mortals

When it became convenient/dangerous/tough the Gods caused this chaos and abandoned mortals to their fate or worse are actively trying to destroy the mortals

The gods don't care for mortals - at worst mortals are bugs to squash - at best they view mortals as "prized pets" and things to be controlled

Ultimately, having these entities with this much power and resources is fundamentally not just dangerous but an existential threat

There are others but those seem to be the main critiques that I've observed.

Well, now let's take a look at Aeor and Aeorian society that we've learned over the course of Downfall p.1 and p.2

When in Hawk's Hill, the most important goal of Aeorians was taking tribute via food, rare resources, and materials, etc. for their secret project. All the while people starving for food watched on as riches passed them by, and Ayden daring to help them was seen as a huge risk.

Aeorians - during the time of the Age of Arcanum - took a chunk of the earth, raised it (crucially) above the rest of the world because they could and because it signalled their power and superiority over everyone else.

Then during the time of the Calamity, Aeor - as the "last bastion of civilization/mortals" has shuttered their doors. As we saw with Hawk's Hill after the resources were taken on board, those that could *work and serve* were prioritized first. And those that were sick or religious? Left for dead and discarded. (Edit: this is to say nothing about the way Aeorians have tried to eradicate all traces of the natural world and its animals from aeor)

Aeorians have developed the ability to create an entirely new species of people with souls - Aeormatons, they have developed the power of creation. They have also developed a weapon so powerful it can kill gods multiple times over. And the decision of who to target or when is completely in the hands of those in power.

Aeorians have been seen subjugating fiends, devils, demons, constructs, elementals - all symbols of divine power. Humiliating them and displaying their superiority by treating them as pets.

Are you picking up what I'm putting down?

Both the Gods and Mortals are guilty of all of these things. Some more than others.

Civilian Aeorians had no control over the high ranking Aeorians building a weapon or subjugating other species. Just as the Prime Deities were helpless to stop the Betrayer Gods from manipulating mortals into starting the Calamity. Just as they were helpless to do anything other than take up arms to try and prevent a genocide of their children by their siblings.

The power differential there is massive - but the result is the same. Both are groups of people being collectively punished for the crimes of a part of them.

The problem is we've moved passed Mutually Assured Destruction - where theoretically there could be a stalemate because both sides know the other could take them out. We've moved into a situation where both Aeorians and the Gods feel that if they don't shoot first, it is them who will be dead.

Once both sides have determined that to give in/not shoot would mean their destruction? We're headed for a unavoidable trainwreck.

My final takeaway here is that I think Matt has very very intentionally made it so both the Gods and the Mortals are reflections of each other. There is no unequivocal bad guy in power here and there is no unequivocal good guy in power.

The only end result here whether the weapon is completed or the gods strike Aeor down is a tragedy where innocents die because of those in power.

The only end result here is a world in which those in power cause more destruction and death than they ever thought themselves capable of because they felt forced into it or were blinded by their hate. Where even those who thought themselves "good" and "fair" and "helping" look at themselves and the result of their actions and see waste and destruction.

But I do have a question...after the Calamity and seeing what it wrought - the Prime Deities made the decision to not just banish their traitorous siblings away but themselves as well. To limit their own power - and by extension their ability to harm.

Would the Archmages of Aeor have done the same?

I'm not convinced to be honest.

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2023: 28-I'm Not Crying

This was not the day Marinette and Damian had expected. They had gone into town to grab some more paint and ended up in a hostage situation with some of the Penguin's goons. They had their guns pointed at them.

Mari noticed that they didn't seem to understand or have full control over the situation. The guy infront of them seemed jumpy and he kept tapping his finger on the trigger, as if he was expecting something. She noticed a rock hurtling towards the window and shoved Damian. Just as the rock hit the glass, the guy slammed his finger on the trigger and hit Marinette in the thigh.

As the bats burst into the building, Damian had taken off his blazer and began to tear his shirt into shreds. He took no notice of the people of Gotham pointing and gasping at his scarred back. He quickly tied his shirt around Marinette's thigh, hoping to stop the bleeding. When police and medic arrive on the scene, he went with her in the ambulance.

Marinette woke up to a bright white room. As she looked around, she noticed Damian asleep on a chair, holding her hand.

"Are you okay?" Marinette questioned, squeezing his hand.

Damian quickly shot up, "Marinette!"

"Are you okay" she asked again.

"Me!" he shouted, "You were shot!"

Mari could feel her eyes well up with tears.

"I apologize for yelling at you, Habibiti." Damian whispered, "I don't want to see you like that, ever again. You were in pain and you were bleeding and-"

Mari opened her arms out for him. Damian crawled into the hospital bed.

"Please, Habibiti." he whispered again.

Marinette could see how much pain she had caused him. She had made her stoic boyfriend cry.

"I didn't mean to make you cry." she whispered back.

"I am not crying." Damian declared.

Mari smiled, "My mistake. I'm interrupting your brooding with the invisible rain cloud over you."

Damian hugged her tighter and she softly brushed his hair. She cuddled into him as he wrapped his arms around her waist and fell back to sleep.

The Waynes closed the door softly, not wanting to interrupt. They knew Damian could sometimes be hostile when his emotions came out. Bruce just smiled at the closed door.

'She's a good pick, Son.'

"I think we should give them ten minutes." Bruce declared.

"Uh, B." Dick called out.

Bruce turned to his eldest.

"You're gonna have to talk with the nurses. Apparently, Damian made a nurse cry and she threatened to quit." he answered, sheepishly, "They ended up changing her to a different room, for now."

Bruce sighed and began walking back toward the nurses' station.

TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl@a-star-with-a-human-name@meme991001@vixen-uchiha@abrx2002@alysrose-starchild@fandom-trapped-03@dood-space@moonlightstar64@saltymiraculer@marveldcedits20@09shell-sea09@icerosecrystal@animegirlweeb@insane-fangirl-of-everything@blueblossombliss@nickristus-dreamer@megawhitleycalderonpaganus@missmadwoman@meira-3919@princessdaisysolosyourfaves@blep-23@fangirlingfanatic@darkhinauniverse@ravenr22@im-a-satanic-ritual@ravennm84@bianca-hooks123@a-slytherinish-gryffindor@starling218

[supercalime]

Hey! Because of the interviews we know Buck and Tommy are going to have some hurdles next episode which is going to cause Buck to spiral. Do you have any theories of what it might be?

Hi dear anon!

First of all I’m flattered to get questions like this on my blog. I love that other fans are interested in knowing my opinion, it makes me feel seen!

Now onto your question, tbh I don’t have any original thoughts haha. I’m reading a lot of what others are speculating and marinating it a bit until I can commit to it lol.

I’m absolutely terrible at predicting and speculating for the shows I watch. Which to be fair is fun in a way as i always end up being surprised when I get to see the episode.

All that being said, I have a few favorite theories that others have shared. I unfortunately can’t track them back down, just know that these should be credited to their original posters:

- it’s Tommy’s birthday and he doesn’t tell buck, so Buck wants to do something big with Tommy’s coworkers and tommy shuts that down, so Buck feels bad. In the end we see that tommy didn’t want a party because his coworkers aren’t a family like the 118. Then the 118 basically adopts tommy

- tommy says something about rejecting the idea of marriage (maybe his parents should’ve divorced but didn’t) and buck is taken aback since he kinda dreamed about the whole 2 kids and a dog thing. Of course it’s a misunderstanding and then tommy tells Buck that he did reject the idea of marriage, until Buck entered his life

- buck and tommy run into an ex of Tommy’s, whom tommy is still good friends with. Buck feels weird that they are still friends as he never had that with his exes (except a bit with Taylor but still). During his convo with Maddie and Josh, Josh tells him that most queer people are friends with their exes and that doesn’t mean they still have feelings, it’s more about keeping the community

- tommy had an ex who died (maybe while in the army, and they were a secret because of DADT). Buck feels inadequate as he keeps comparing himself to a war hero. That’s why he talks to Bobby, Eddie and Maddie, because all of them lost their spouses so they give advice

- Tommy finds out his dad died, he doesn’t want to go to the funeral, yet buck keeps trying to convince him to go because he thinks if tommy tries to forgive his dad he could move on, but tommy maybe lashes out saying he doesn’t want to forgive his dad and buck shouldn’t try to “fix” him. Later of course everything gets resolved and we see buck being less focusing on fixing on what he can’t control and tommy with his walls down

Final point! I promise! Hehe

I may be in the minority here (and I’d love to be wrong), but I don’t think we will get an ILY or a proposal for moving in together yet. Not because I feel like it’s too soon or anything, but because storytelling wise, it would be more meaningful if such milestones happened after a big thing, like maybe tommy gets hurt and after he wakes up in the hospital with a worried buck (and all the 118 there for him!) by his side, the I love you and/or moving in talk happens.

Anyway, this is way too long haha

Those are the ideas popping up in my head with the help of all the clever people in this fandom, what do you think?

[cenorii]

Drunken theory about EYES

Let's get away from game conventions and the fact that Capcom could have trivially forgotten or left something out. I wrote this theory under temperature, so there is a certain level of absurdity present, especially since I dreamed it and that was the reason for writing it. I warned you!

Until there is an official explanation, this article is up to date.

What is this theory about? It's about both Wesker's eyes and PG67A/W. It's about why his eyes change color and what it depends on.

So, let's talk about PG67A/W first. It is not officially known when exactly this serum was created, but I believe it is definitely after 2003. That's when Wesker merged with Tricell, because the syringe has their brand label on it. He needs PG67A/W to «stabilize the force». But what is this «stabilization» really? We don't really know what happens to Wesker without the serum. The game says that he loses strength without it and so he needs the serum to stabilize his body, but I have a different opinion, which I'll tell you in a moment.

Between 1998 and 2003, Wesker is unable to use PG67A/W because it has not yet been invented. However, the powers he gained from the virus have not left him during these 5 years, he is far beyond a normal human. While fighting Sergei and his Ivans in 2003 (Umbrella Chronicles) he displayed his standard set of abilities. The only thing he lacked was speed, the same speed in re5.

We conclude that he only needs PG67A/W to have speed. It was speed and reaction that he «lost» when Chris and Sheva injected him with an overdose of PG67A/W in re5. However, the strength remained the same, thanks to it, he punched the rocket with Uroboros with his arm.

In fact, if you give him an extra dose of PG67A/W, he doesn't lose any of his abilities, including his speed. Wesker's body is only overloaded, which causes a severe headache as his body tries to cope with the strain. His powers then increase even more, causing them to become difficult to control. When Chris injected him with an extra dose again, his strength became not just difficult, but impossible to control, and he gave up speed altogether, because it was trivially useless.

--------------------------------------------

Now that we've dealt with how the serum works, let's talk about the abnormality of his eyes. Wesker's eye color is closely related to his ability status. I'll go into detail in a moment.

To make it easier to understand what I'm talking about, we need to trace the entire history of the change. In the fandom, it is commonly believed that his eyes were originally blue, and after the virus injection, they became permanently red-orange. But what if I told you that they change color all the time?

Re1 it's simple - blue. This is the very beginning of the story, so this color is taken as the standard color.

Then the Umbrella Chronicles plot happens, where his eyes changed color for the first time (in the timeline of the story).

The red glow is something similar to re5, however it momentarily goes out, returning his eyes to a blue color, but why? It's really unclear why they're still blue here if the game was released in 2007, long after Code Veronica (2000), in which his eyes were redesigned long ago.

Is the old color persisting not because of Capcoms inattention, but because of canonical processes in his body? The eyes can't instantly change their appearance and need time to fully mutate? We'll come back to that.

Ibid, in Umbrella Chronicles, his eyes are no longer blue in the official material.

Wesker then appears in Code Veronica and there his eyes have the familiar orange look for the first time (according to the games release chronology), like on official Umbrella Chronicles materials.

Given that the events here take place in 1998, like re1, one can really assume that Wesker needed some time to mutate fully.

In 2002, Wesker appears in Operation Javier (Darkside Chronicles, 2009), his eyes blue again.

In 2003, one of the storylines of Umbrella Chronicles and Prelude to the Fall, his eyes came back to design from Code Veronica.

In 2005, when re4 released his eyes are blue again. I could say that this was allowed by accident, when Wesker's model, from the re1 remake, Capcom simply forgot to change the eye color. But that theory is ruined by one small fact... the remake.

In the re4 remake, his eyes aren't orange either (actually they are orange, but human).

They're not blue, of course, but different from Code Veronica, suggesting that his eyes probably do lose their inhuman appearance over time, slowly turning into normal eyes. In Code Veronica, they're orange because Wesker is at the peak of his powers, but over time he weakens, his eyes change, and he needs PG67A/W to get things back to the way they were, only with bonuses like reaction and speed.

And by the way, in the concepts for re5 there's a shot where Wesker's eyes regain their blue color. If even at the stage of game development Capcom thought about this feature, when the developers already had several games where his eye color varied, then it can be considered a canonical feature. We take into account not only this concept, which was not included in the game, but also the eye from the remake of re4, which does not look like Code Veronica or re5 at all.

In standard form, after taking PG67A/W and\or at the peak of his powers, Wesker's eyes look like this. Essentially identical to Code Veronica, it just looks better due to the graphics.

My conclusion: the color of his eyes directly shows the state of strength. Weakened body - first the pupil changes, becoming round again, and then the color already changes, gradually «dimming» in approaching the original (blue) color. After taking the serum - red or orange color with a narrow pupil. The blue color could mean complete weakness, but judging by re4r, he doesn't drive himself to that extreme state, so it's unlikely Capcom will ever show such a thing again. The only time his mutated eyes have been blue canonically is Umbrella Chronicles, but there it's due (presumably) to the mutation not being completed yet, and also in Darkside Chronicles.

Yes, I actually had a dream that I was writing this theory, but I had to do some brainstorming to turn it into something readable, as well as gather material. Don't take it too seriously.

[darcytaylor]

Honestly, at this point I think a lot of people need to be stepping away from this fandom and thinking about themselves more for awhile. I’ve been absolutely horrified by the discourse around Jake’s sexuality that has started to break out on here and other platforms and it is NOT a respectful or appropriate discussion to be having to begin with, let alone the tone and word choices people are using. 

This whole situation is a bit… messy at this point. To your point, you can’t read into anything we see online all that much because we don’t really know the full story or what’s going on inside their minds. That said, sometimes actions speak louder than words and there comes a point where the appearance of things should at least be respected.

People longing to get direct declarations or statements from folks like we might have been used to in the past, I feel, are going to be left wanting I fear, because more and more celebs are choosing to let their actions and choices speak for themselves, especially in their private lives. Margot Robbie didn’t even announce her pregnancy, she just lived her life and let photos be taken, and that’s turning into a fairly typical move since social media/news cycle is so open to everyone to see.

All that said, a lot of really nasty comments and opinions and behaviors really do seem to be coming out lately, and it’s really just a disappointment.

A thing that always makes me roll my eyes is when people argue that since it’s okay to label someone as straight, it should be fine to speculate and label someone as gay or queer. It’s important to remember the historical context behind these labels. For much of history, being gay or queer carried stigma, discrimination, and harm. It’s not about the labels themselves but the weight they carry and the harm that speculation can cause.

Ideally, we’d reach a point where we no longer feel the need to label anyone’s sexuality. Sexuality is fluid; it’s not binary. But we’re not there yet. LGBTQ+ individuals still face challenges, and respecting someone’s autonomy over their identity - and what they choose to share - is key. How we talk about sexuality matters because words and speculation can have real consequences.

But achieving all of this requires continuous change, empathy, and respect for others privacy and identity. Ignoring that need for caution disregards the health and safety of people.

This situation feels messy, and honestly, the fandom is making it messier. It’s hard for people to grasp that we don’t truly know these individuals or what’s happening behind the scenes. When Nicola talked about false rumours about herself, she said, “But they don’t even know me. That's the key.” She was right. Even if she corrected the narrative, people would still cherry-pick moments from her life and pretend to know everything. The internet gives us a lot of information, but it’s just a snapshot. Nothing replaces the nuance of someone’s private thoughts and feelings.

While actions do speak loudly, we need to balance that with respect for what’s shown publicly and avoid making assumptions about someone’s personal life. We might interpret actions one way, but that doesn’t mean they reflect the full story. The rumours being turned into “truths” haven’t come from Nicola herself, and even if she did speak out, people would still believe what they want. Speaking out could even lead to more harm, including hate directed at people she cares about. Personally, I don’t think it’s worth it for her to inform fans or the general audience - at least not now, when it could do more damage than good.

We’re living in a completely different world than we were 20 years ago. Social media has given us access to celebrities lives, making it difficult for them to maintain any sense of privacy. In the past, we relied on traditional media outlets for glimpses of celebrities. Now, social media shows so much and often without control.

On top of that, almost everyone carries a camera in their pocket, making it far too easy to invade peoples privacy and turn their private moments into public spectacles without their consent. It’s no wonder many celebrities now choose to keep their personal lives more private and let their actions speak for themselves. By focusing on their actions, they avoid having their words twisted, and if their actions are kind and considerate, they don’t worsen situations, even if they don’t fully reveal what’s going on.

Unfortunately, the anonymity of the internet often brings out the worst in some, leading to nastiness and judgment. And even when we feel strongly about a topic, we should all strive to be more empathetic and mindful in how we engage. ❤️

[nightsdreamgates]

I need to know what will NiGHTS, reala and jackle what will sceared off?

There are many factors that would make them scared, is obvious to think that it would be mainly of Wizeman, the one who created them, althought, there are other types of fears we can explore further — funny enough, even if they are nightmarens, with a purpose to bring fear to visitors, all of them can also have fears.

— A Nightmaren's Fear: NiGHTS, Reala and Jackle

— NiGHTS

Having his freedom taken and return to the old norm, which is being under Wizeman's eyes again;

But besides that, there are much more to it. Often times, NiGHTS has these strange, shivering paranoia sensations, of being watched;

Being watched of something he cannot see, as Wizeman's last words before his run away haunts him till' this day: "Foolish child, your essence belongs to me, your eyes belongs to me, everything I've made of you is based of myself; Even at your strongest points, I'll always be watching upon you. I'll always will find you."

When there isn't a ideya or courage to sustain his exposed core, his mind is flooded by the reminds of his old master;

Also, NiGHTS as a phobia for tiny spaces, which is why he tries to cope by dancing inside of the Ideya Palace and desperately tries to get the visitor's attention;

The thought of also losing his whole identity and being controlled once again by Wizeman, is what gets him by the lowest. Losing his own control as Wizeman would take over him, is a vivid nightmare for even a folk that is created from one.

— Reala

Dissapointment. The idea of being what she can never reach to be, equal as her sibling's golden achievements, Reala struggles with a sense of unsatisfaction of self-fulfillment in terms of bringing pride to Wizeman;

She blames deeply NiGHTS for the curse he had pulled towards her, and all the weight she has to now endure being not only a general, but the future ruler of Nightmera, once she manages to proof fully, by capturing NiGHTS and absorb his essence to become fully one greatest being;

Althought even if driven by the rage, a similar fear that Reala shares with NiGHTS, is the fear of losing her own identity. The originality of her own being;

She fears Wizeman as a consenquences of her loyalty and recognition of Wizeman's ancient wisdom — One of the punishments that Wizeman does whenever Reala would show similar "signs" as NiGHTS did of his "early rebellious arc", Wizeman would harshly punish Reala by isolating her inside of a dark room;

This caused for Reala develop a phobia for dark areas, unironically enough. Even if she tries to show indiferrence, it's clear that the memories, rising anxiety, gives up the inner conflict and scars Reala got from these punishments;

Besides that she also worries of not being good enough, not only for Wizeman, but also for her subjects.

— Jackle

Now Jackle, as crazy and insane he shows to be at times, he uses this clown facade to cope and hide the inner conscience of his failed attempt of being a first level, lowering to only as a second all because of a defective detail from lack of his well... Everything apparently and metaphorically;

Jackle as a identity crisis at times, changing demeanor whenever he feels like a different style. Similar to a teenage girl changing her hair colour at every new sensational trend;

But what he is doing, is attempting to fill his never ending hole, to feel like he is also important and powerful by his own ways;

The cards is one of his coping mechanism, as a nightmaren with a unique ability to read the future, past and even the present;

Jackle has a irrational phobia of being left behind, forgotten or alone;

He knows that for Wizeman he isn't as important as Reala and NiGHTS. And Jackle keeps living on that thought, not caring much but at same time caring, is confusing, but it is what it is.

Woah I've been receiving a lot of quick asks recently, but I like that! This way I can keep feeding the fandom with new headcanons, oneshots and more writting content of NiGHTS besides the fanarts I make. Thank you anon for another ask and hope you like it!

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

Adding to the “Velvette is the glue of the Vees” convo (and possible slightly out of character interpretation)

I feel like Vox and Valentino definitely need somebody to confide in other than a fuck-buddy y’know?

Like just a (somewhat) stable friend or business partner no sex involved

…Who they’ll sometimes cuddle on the couch with and bitch about their day to each other

I hc Velvette in all her independent girlboss glory can grow clingy towards those she’s attached herself to - that being Vox and Valentino

Say Vox and Val have an argument Velvette wasn’t around for, so they’re both pissed at each other - Velvette comes to their little shared common space, completely drained from work and drapes herself over whoever is there

Valentino; will immediately start bitching to her but also scoop her up and plop on the couch, maybe get some snacks and drinks as they both recharge

Vox; stays quiet - doesn’t like talking after an argument but will do something similar, maybe go into his office instead to stalk someone while having Velvette in his lap. Velvette is just there doom scrolling on her phone or taking a nap while Vox rubs her back

Whoever Velvette runs into first - she can sense the argument happened. So once she’s recharged and taken care of herself - she’ll text them something stupid like “Can’t sleep. Come here. Now.” without telling Vox or Valentino that the other one will be there - both of them go in her room and are - pissed lol

(Think of that Spongebob episode where Squidward tries to make Patrick and SpongeBob be friends again 💀)

But yeah uhmmm Velvette’s gonna 1. Address the issue directly 2. Force both Vox and Valentino to sleep with her bc she’s too tired to deal with them but will force them into the awkward situation cause she wants the entertainment

If scenario 2 happens Velvette is obviously sandwiched in between Vox and Valentino while they stare at each other angrily. Whoever speaks way too loud first gets punched by Velvette (happens multiple times) so they’re forced to quietly “discuss their issues” while Velvette is playing dumb and pretending to sleep - eventually things do work out and they all fall asleep

I don’t even know where I was going with this it’s incredibly disorganized I just like ranting about the Vees help - love silly Velvette headcanons where she’s the one who’s in control I guess lol

I totally agree with like half of what you've written - with the part taht Vox and Valentino both need someone to confide with. None of them has a lot of opportunities to be just comfortable with another person. Sure they have each other but romantic relatisohips are often more "loaded" than frienships and while they can grant deeper connection, they also generate greater tension. That's why lifelong frienships are way more common than lifelong romances.

But I don't find the idea of Velvette's infantilization appealing, sorry. She strikes me as a person who craves to be feared and respected, to the level that it feels almost like overcompesating for her young age (compared to other Overlords) and non-threatening form. I don't see why would she allow anyone, even her friends to treat her like a plushie. Especially when those friends are power hungry maniacs who nutoriously prey on people they see as weaker.

That doesn't mean I think your headcanon is wrong or bad. It just doesn't allign with my own interpretation. Which is perfectly fine, they can't even be compared in their accuracy in relation to canon because we barely have any canon. So please, don't take it personally - I love you have fun with your ideas, that's the most important part of fandom <3

[inoshibi1]

-Yandere Enmu X Reader-

⚠️warning⚠️mentions of obsessive language, death and kidnapping *.:✧* *.:✧*.:✧~

Fandom: Demon slayer. Characters: Emnu

A/N: I’m sorry if there are any typos here, I didn’t have time to proof read or anything.

~*.:���*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*887 words *.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧~

*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧ *.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧

The moment you had taken step onto the train, he knew it.

He knew you were the one. His hand remained under the seats, watching you as you sat there in almost complete boredom. Sighing, you eventually found yourself standing up and looking for the restrooms. At that moment, the train took a large rattle, and you nearly tipped over. "Wh-" you gasped, eyes wide with terror as you had looked around in desperate confusion, but only found yourself facing a strange pale.. man? with yellow markings all over his face.

Something almost felt too wrong. "I'm glad to have finally been able to meet you my dear." he spoke, a deep blush across his face as he slowly walked forward to greet you and take a close look at your face. Slowly, he grasped your hands and admired it, noticing how beautiful you were. So young. So beautiful. And he couldn't get over that confused and horrified expression you wore.

"E..Excuse me? I believe you're mistaken.." You whispered quietly, slowly pulling your hands away and causing him to chuckle. "But no, you're wrong. I could never mistake you for somebody else." He spoke, leaning forward until you were pushed up against the wall. Feeling scared now, you attempted to scramble away, but realized you were falling. Was this.. a dream?

You once again found yourself facing the male, and gulped. "My name is Enmu." He spoke, smiling brightly at you as the people around you remained asleep... no. The people around you were completely gone. A cold sweat broke out onto your skin as you stared at him in complete horror and confusion. "I don't know you." You stated, just a little more stern than earlier.

"So please.. leave me alone." You breathed slowly, trying to be nice. He admired that, but it would not be enough. "Don't run away from me yet! We had just met. I have a liking in you! You are special. I will keep you alive!" He boasted. "Alive? What are you?" You frowned, now noticing all those features that were off with him. He was a human,, in looks, but everything was off. To how pale he was to his eyes, then the way he socialized like he did not know how to.

He paused and frowned at your reaction. "Oh? Are you not happy to have been favorited by me? Do you not find it to be an honor?" He asked, tilting his head as he had intensely stared at you, and slowly grasped your hands once again. This time, he pulled you forward towards himself and spoke slowly, clearly trying to make you understand. "This isn't a choice for you.." He murmured, and you opened your lips to object, but no words came out as you felt intimidation from him. You were too scared to say anything in return to begin with. What was he planning for you?

His expression seemed almost dangerous. It was enough to cause you to tremble. "You are now forever mine. I will show you beautiful dreams. Oh, are you not honored to have such a privilege?" He asked, almost repetitively as you stared at him in so much concern and worry. Both for him and yourself. "Dream? You make it sound like you can control what I see when I sleep." You chuckled nervously.

"Correct! I'm impressed with your knowledge." He smiled brightly, brushing your hair out of your face as you caught a glimpse of blood dripping from the ceiling. "Let me show you what will happen if you try to run." he murmured, as the area began to fill with blood, until it was at your face, and you began to drown in the sticky red blood, crying and choking out as you tried to escape. As the blood filled your system, you felt the air bubbles leave your body, before you woke up on the ground and coughed out blood, shaking and trembling in complete horror as you looked up to try and run until you saw your family, dead at your hands.

They lied there, body torn apart and their eyes wide with horror as their pupils had stared directly at you. Now you backed away, right into Enmu's feet. Sobbing harshly, you covered your eyes in absolute mortification. He hugged you tightly and smiled at you. "No need to cry. I'II be here to protect you for the rest of your mortal life." He cooed, staring into your eyes. As his hands had wrapped tightly around your wrists. "But don't disappoint me.." He added quietly, with the intention to threaten you.

As he had caressed your cheek in a comforting manner, you found yourself praying for your own life, hoping to survive to see the daylight. "Please don't hurt me." You sobbed quietly, unintentionally as he had chuckled lightly at your words. "I’d never hurt without a purpose." He smiled softly, his voice soft as he breathed against your neck, threatening to sink his teeth into your soft flesh. It was so tempting. You must've tasted amazing, considering how much he had loved you already. All the things you two could do together. All the things he could do together was simply endless. And those pesky demon slayers wouldn't even suspect a thing.

They never had, anyways.

[tarithenurse]

Bound

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen AU. Pairing/starring: Demon!Suguru Geto x fem!reader. Word count: 1286. Content: DUBCON/NONCON, monster-smut, demonic rituals, loss of virginity, breeding kink. No fluff at all. Demonic anatomy is different from human but compatible (mostly). A/N: Alright I’m just going to say in my defence....ermmm....I have nothing to say in my defence. Sorry. Don’t read if you have any issues with what I’ve mentioned above. Did I miss a tag? Let me know.

Bound

Geto’s nostrils flare, taking in the scents before responding to the chanted summons. To him, through his domain in the Hells with it’s constant stench of sulphur and rot, come the clean notes of virgin blood and incense. He knows what will await him and his body thrummed in eager anticipation as he follows the pull.

Even as he passes through the veil, he can sense the mixed emotions greeting him: greed and fear.

With a flash of fire and smoke, he appears by the makeshift altar in the centre of the summoning circle. Already his cock stands proud, naked as he is...but he know it’ll be the wings and fangs they’ll see first as he hunches over the offering.

And what a pretty little thing she is. Dressed in naught but a white shift, ropes holding her in place, the young maiden stares up at Geto now with a different kind of fear in her eyes than he had scented on his way – perhaps she had been unsure if it would work. But it had. He is there, ready to claim his payment.

Straightening, he takes in the small circle of men around him, grinning at the sight of their apprehension as they peek out from underneath the hood of the robes – they are frightened too although for different reasons because no way in the ritual does it say that Geto is under their control. He flares his wings, just for effect, and seems them shrink in fear until one finally clears his throat and inches forward.

“Oh mighty demon!” the human begins, voice trembling despite the, honestly, impressive power behind it, “we have summoned you to fulfill our wishes...offering you this maiden in recompense.”

Looking down at the girl once more, Geto takes in her curves as she lies trembling. She’s...prettier than other offerings. Leaning down, he breathes in her scent: fear, flowery soap, and something that surprises him, causing him to look to the apex of her thighs that she subtly rub together. Interesting.

“What is your wish?” Geto growls, looking at the leader of the ritual.

“We want money and to be men of great import.”

It’s always like that: riches, long lives, power.

Curling out his mind, Geto touches upon their fates, granting them what they wish. He grins to himself because he alone knows that the riches can be taken away and that the power will corrupt, lead to their downfall.

“Consider it done,” he growls.

Reaching down, he snaps the ropes that hold the maiden easily before tugging her against his chest. Glaring at the men, a low growl escapes him.

“Leave.”

They scatter, ignoring the whimper of the girl in the demon’s grasp.

“Please,” she whispers, eyes big as she looks up at him.

“Please what?” he snarls, a claw playing with the length of her throat. “Let you go? Or...-” he inhales deeply – “maybe you wish for me to be kind as I fuck you? I can smell your desire.”

She looks away as if abashed but there’s no lying to him. As he slowly tears through her shift with a single claw, her head whips around to watch his action but she makes no move to cover up as the thin, white fabric falls aside, revealing her curves and perfect breasts with dark nipples that pucker as the cooler air hits them. By her thighs’ apex is a sheen that draws him.

Lying her down, Geto isn’t all too kind as he spreads her legs, conjuring new bonds to hold her in place but he is differently careful when sliding a finger along her folds, gathering up the slick.

“Depraved little thing,” he growls, licking the juices off his finger, “wanting this.”

He fists his cock, calling her attention to it finally and he relishes in the sight of how her eyes widen because she is small and he is big. Blood-red and ridged, his cock throbs. A soft laughter ripples from the demon as he licks the last drops of her essence off the finger, the forked tongue tasting and loving the salty sweetness of her.

“I’ll take my time with you,” he decides.

Lowering his face to her cunt, he licks a broad stripe before flicking with the tips of his tongue over her clit, making her squirm. A quick glance reveals that she’s biting her lip in an effort to stay quiet – but he wants to hear her moan and scream.

Large hands rove her body as he dives back in, licking and suckling and sometimes allowing a sharp canine to graze her sensitive skin. Yet she remains silent although she’s straining against the bonds, back arching and hips bucking – even as he delves into her tight heat, finding and caressing her tender spot until her entire body spasms in his grasp.

“Say my name,” he growls, prolonging her orgasm.

But not a word leaves her mouth.

Annoyed, he pulls her, snapping the bonds once more and thrusts into her without a warning and at least that helps: a guttural keening erupts from her as her eyes rolls back in her head. It’s not good enough, but it’s getting closer.

Bouncing her on his cock, Geto holds a slow pace to feel how tight she is. Feel how her walls flutter around his erection as each ridge rubs along that spot and the bulge above his cock nudges against her clit each time he bottoms out. He knows it must cause her pain too but she seems too lost to care...or maybe she likes it.

Turning her, he both holds and moves her with one arm while the other glides along her curves until a finger presses against her bundle of nerves. Then, with sheer force of will, he extends the bulge, allowing the appendage to push against her tight ring. He can feel her stiffen in his grip.

Swiping up some of her juices, he retracts and smear it upon this new body part, lubing it up before pushing in again. This time it’s easier and he penetrates her rear while she whimpers.

Lying her over the altar, face down and hips resting on the edge, Geto begins to rut into her again. Each thrusts causes her voice to quake out a tiny groan or moan and as he continues, a hand finding her clit once more, these cries grow in strength and he can feel her cunt grasp him again. Tight. Hot. Wet.

It’s been eons since he’s been gifted an offering that fit him so well and Geto feels his own release approaching fast. How would she look with his spawn in her belly? It’s a flash of a thought but enough for him to decide not to leave her behind but rather to take her with him, to breed her, make her his.

Then she spasms again, body almost pulling him in further and with a roar, he bucks deep into her one last time. His vision brightens, leaving nothing but white light as his body stiffens and the pulses flow through him and into her. He’s never tried it before, loosing control like that. He likes it.

When the vision returns, he leans down over her, taking in the scent of the sex and sweat. There is still a hint of lingering fear, but it’s been overpowered by lust and satisfaction for now.

“Don’t worry, little one,” he purrs, tongue lashing out to lick along her cheek, “I won’t kill you...and I won’t leave you alone.”

With that, he scoops her up in his arms and steps through the shimmer of the worlds with her, content that he will have her for ages to come to play with.

[acradelius]

Could a request an NSFW fic of the junker boys reacting to the reader getting a tramp stamp of their names tattooed on them?

"Oo, A Tramp Stamp You Say?~"

Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2

Pairings: Mako Rutledge (Roadhog) x Reader, Jamison Fawkes (Junkrat) x Reader

Rating: Lemon [🟡] (NSFW!)

Warnings/Mention Ofs: Tramp Stamps, Slight Possessiveness, Implied! Ownership Kink, Spanking, Doggy Style Position, Nickname Usage, Slight Aggressiveness, Cum On Body

Word Count: 1,131 Words

Author's Note: I have never wanted a tramp stamp till now

[ MAKO / ROADHOG ]

There are some things that need to be taken into consideration whenever thinking about getting something as permanent as a tattoo, especially when the theme revolves around Mako. First, how long has the relationship with Mako been going on for? If the relationship isn’t much of a serious one or hasn’t been going on for quite some time now, then he most likely would be against (Y/N) getting a tattoo that revolves around him on themself. Next, he would like to discuss the detailing of the tattoo that (Y/N) is wanting to get. He’ll admit that he’s not wanting to control what (Y/N) can or cannot get, it’s their body anyways, he just doesn’t want to cause harm to (Y/N) if someone was to recognize aspects of the tattoo that are related to him. If the detailing focuses more on his “Roadhog” persona, then he’s not as worried about it as the people know more of “Roadhog” and that he’s not an individual to be fucked around with. Yet, if the detailing focuses more on his own person, “Mako”, he’d be a bit more concerned as there’s still some individuals from his past that still have a grudge.

Whenever Mako finally comes home from his extended work mission, about two to three weeks after (Y/N) having gotten the tattoo, he’s quite curious as to what the tattoo might consist of seeing that (Y/N) would deny sending him pictures of it, stating that they would prefer to see his reaction. He’s able to catch a glimpse of color, raising an eyebrow at the placement of the tattoo, before walking towards (Y/N) who was bent over to draw themself a bath and rested his hands upon their hips. It’s then that he’s finally given permission to view the tattoo, chuckling as he gently tugs down their pants and lets them fall to the floor. Initially his first reaction is silence, thumb brushing across the tattoo as Mako takes the sight of it in. Observing the tattoo, the centerpiece of it is quite identical to the tattoo that he has upon his stomach, but instead of “Wild Hog Power” the wording had been replaced with “Mako’s Little Piggy”. On each side happens to be his scrap gun, along with his hook and chain being shot from the guns to complete the tattoo.

It’s not long after that he’s dragged (Y/N) into the bed, their ass up in the air all while their face is buried into the mattress to muffle the moans leaving their lips. Mako’s thrusts are painstakingly slow as he continues to look down at the tramp-stamp, thumb brushing across it as his intrusive thoughts begin to kick in. “You like everyone knowing who you belong to, Little Piggy?~ Letting everyone know that you’re Daddy Pig’s little whore?~ Walking around with his mark~” His thrusting pace increases, one hand gripping tightly onto (Y/N)’s hip all while the other one trails across the tattoo down to their asshole and then back again. He starts with spanking, chuckling and groaning at watching (Y/N) squirm and jolt at the impact, all while continuing to back themself against Mako’s cock. “Hmm~ How about we leave some more markings for everyone to see who you belong to?~ Let’s see how long it’ll take for all those Junkers to realize you belong to me forever now~”

[ JAMISON / JUNKRAT ]

While Jamison is an individual that’s somewhat familiar with getting and having tattoos, seeing that he’s got a various amount of them himself, he doesn’t really understand what a tramp stamp is till (Y/N) is able to explain it to him. When he finally processes the idea of a tramp stamp, and with you bending over to show him where exactly it would be placed at, he becomes all excited and bouncy. He spends the next couple of minutes with (Y/N) in front of a body length mirror, having them pose as he tries to imagine them with a tramp stamp. Yet, when it’s mentioned that (Y/N) wants to have the tramp stamp detailed around Jamison, this man almost cums in his shorts right then and there. Despite that Jamison isn’t the brightest person around he knows that getting something about another person, especially your significant other, is a major sign for a relationship. He doesn’t have a ring to propose to (Y/N) right then and there so he proposes the idea of the both of them going and getting tramp stamps together. 

Brainstorming and trying to visualize ideas ends up taking a vast majority of their downtime or free time whenever not being on work missions or having to deal with Junkers trying to steal their stuff. There’s a good amount of the time that Jamison will just go ahead and blurt out whatever idea decides to pop within his mind, seeing that if he doesn’t get it out into the open right then and there that he will most likely forget what he was thinking about. “Hey, Firecracker! How about I add that toothpaste that you use? Or! Or, how about that delicious sandwich you made for me for lunch some time ago!” It takes some time for (Y/N) to get him to realize that not everything about your partner needs to be on a tattoo, just some of the most important aspects.

He’s unable to focus his attention onto anything else whenever he catches sight of (Y/N)’s tramp stamp, a devious smirk forming on his face of how they have a mark of him now, a sign to show all those other Junkers that (Y/N) is his - no, belongs to him. Only ever will Jamison will be the one to view it within the positions that they’re both in: (Y/N) having their ass up in the air, swaying it from side to side, all while making sure to take Jamison’s cock like a good Firecracker they are~ His fingers trace the shapes around the rip tire that served as the centerpiece for the tramp stamp, then at the “Jamison Fawkes” that was circling around the rip tire itself. Just having seen his name now permanently on (Y/N) skin was enough to send shivers throughout his body, causing him to quicken the pace of his thrusts. His fingers would then trace the dotted lines showing the trajectory of his bombs, giggling softly as they had mini cartoony explosions behind them. It’s all enough to cause him to cum, but instead of cumming inside like he normally does, he proceeds to pull his cock out of (Y/N) and cum all over their tramp stamp, giggling like a mad man. “Mm, Firecracker~ It’s a good reminder of who you belong to~”

[tsarisfanfiction]

Mischief (Tales From the Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Gen Genre: Friendship Characters: Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, Heart Pirates Been a while since I last wrote for this series, I know... saw a prompt about Penguin and Shachi swapping hats and had to write it! Regarding Penguin's hair colour, we have exactly one manga panel (in chapter 922) that shows that it's light, so that's what I'm rolling with!

It did not take Bepo long to realise that today was a Mischief Day.  His nakama did that, sometimes.  All of them had been known to do it, but Penguin and Shachi were the worst-offenders – or at least the longest-running offenders, especially because Bepo had known them since they were cubs and they’d always been a bit mischievous, from the second day he knew them (he didn’t count the first day, because they’d been scared of him, and it had hurt, but at least they had sorted that out years ago).

Penguin and Shachi had many reasons for Mischief Days, Bepo had figured out over the years.  Boredom was one.  Unease was another, causing mischief to distract from it.  Breaking tension in the crew, especially when it was Captain that was tense, because no-one else in the crew had the decade-long bond of knowing exactly when and how to distract Law for maximum effectiveness.

Given that Law had been on edge for the past week – planning to be a Shichibukai was not easy, Bepo had quickly surmised – and the rest of the crew had been feeling it, too (even Bepo’s mink was slightly raised, unable to fully relax), Bepo wasn’t actually surprised when he saw Shachi but smelt Penguin, then saw Penguin but smelt Shachi.

There were other clues, too, but it was the scent that gave them away – and Bepo knew he was the only one in the crew that trusted scent over sight.

He wasn’t going to interrupt their mischief.  He felt bad when he did that, even though they were never mad at him when he did – but sometimes a little frustrated, if he did it too soon (and then they got frustrated when he said sorry; there was no winning with his nakama, sometimes).  It was easiest to say nothing now and then apologise to Captain later, when Law looked at him for knowing and saying nothing.

Law wouldn’t complain when he apologised, just sigh and tell him it wasn’t his fault, sending a disapproving look at Penguin and Shachi, who would shrug it off.

Breakfast was a chaotic affair, as always.  They didn’t do food fights, not after their much-appreciated cook had told them all off loudly, and Law had proven he would always win through abusing the Ope Ope no Mi that one time, but that didn’t stop food being snatched from plates and coffees being stolen, and the general rough-and-tumble of nakama having a good time.

It was so chaotic that no-one except Bepo even noticed when Penguin and Shachi swapped the food they’d been given each other’s, because their cook had been so rushed off his feet that he hadn’t noticed he’d given them each other’s trays.

Clione was their first victim, or at least the first one Bepo saw.  His hood was half falling off his head, leaving his mussed-up hair half exposed, but given he’d been on the night watch that was a normal sight.  Bepo and Penguin were the ones rota’d to relieve him, and Penguin had taken several long strides to keep up with Bepo as they made their way to the control room.

“Morning, Bepo,” he grinned, and Bepo returned the greeting.

At the sound of his name, Penguin grinned, and looked even more like Shachi.  Bepo wondered if he’d practiced that in the mirror, but didn’t ask.

“Knew you’d catch on,” Penguin said, but he held up a finger to his lips.  “Let us have our fun.”

��Okay,” Bepo agreed easily, because he already knew he would.

Clione blinked blearily at them as they walked in, clearly ready for bed.  He wasn’t as tired as he looked, Bepo knew, because if he was that tired he’d have woken someone to take over for him earlier – falling asleep on night watch was one of the few things Law had punishments for, because that endangered everyone, and everyone had had it drummed into them that they were to wake someone if they got tired.

“Shachi?” he asked.  “I thought it was Penguin’s shift after mine?”

“We swapped,” Penguin shrugged.

“Well that’s on your head when Captain finds out,” Clione yawned, because they were all nakama but there was still a hierarchy, and when Penguin or Shachi said something like that, Law was the only one that wasn’t expected to listen (Bepo wasn’t, either, but he did anyway, because it was less confusing that way).

Handover went as usual – no overnight problems, the Tang was swimming as smoothly as ever – and it was only when Clione stood up and took a second look at Penguin that he did a double take.

“What happened to your hair?” he squawked, poking at Shachi’s hat, and Shachi’s shades, and the cropped, blond hair that only one of the Swallow Island natives had.

“What do you think?” Penguin grinned, his sharp, Shachi-like grin, and Clione frowned at him before enlightenment struck.

“You- you swapped,” he parroted, throwing his hands in the hair.  Bepo made sure he was out of range of the flailing limbs – he didn’t deserve to be hit for their nakama’s mischief.  “Swapped clothes, you bastard.  What the hell, Penguin?”

“Felt like it,” Penguin shrugged, and Clione groaned.

“I’m going to bed,” he said firmly.  “It’s too early for this nonsense.”

“Sleep well!” Penguin called after him, and laughed as he got a middle finger raised in response.

The rest of the morning went the same way.  Bepo wasn’t always with one or both of them, but whenever he was, someone always fell for it.

Their voices weren’t that similar, but their accent was distinctive, the only members of the crew from that pocket of North Blue, and Bepo and the mischief makers had quickly realised that speaking wasn’t giving them away for the most part.

It did give them away to Law, though, who called Penguin over, had Shachi answer, and freeze, scrutinising him for a moment before sighing and putting a hand over his face.  “I said Penguin,” he said, and Shachi had pouted, but they’d obeyed.

By lunchtime, the sounds of “Pen- Shachi!” and Sha-Penguin!” and various iterations thereof, in increasingly frustrated voices, seemed to be a constant sound throughout the Tang.

They hadn’t actually done much – they were wearing each others’ hats, and both of them were wearing a pair of Shachi’s shades – but it was enough.  Penguin’s hat covered most of Shachi’s slightly wild red shock of hair, although it poked out around his face a little bit like a lion’s mane, while Shachi’s hat mostly covered Penguin’s rather shorter, cropped blond hair, but left it visible behind his ears and at the base of his skull.

It was enough to trick at a glance, but it wasn’t hard to tell who was who – or at least, Bepo didn’t think so, but when he pointed that out, after all their nakama knew about the switch, he’d been told that not everyone had a powerful enough sense of smell to tell them apart immediately.

His immediate apology was waved away.

Of course, Penguin and Shachi weren’t done with their mischief.  By mid-afternoon, their nakama had adjusted to it, so naturally they swapped back when no-one was looking (Bepo was looking, because Shachi had dragged him to stand guard – “we’re not fooling you anyway, so you can make sure no-one else catches us” – while they’d given each other their hat back.

The rest of the day was met with more frustrated “Pen-Shachi” and “Sha-Penguin” as their nakama slowly realised what they’d done.

The simmering tension about Captain’s shichibukai plotting had all but disappeared, though, and when Penguin and Shachi drew Bepo into a high-five just before lights’ out that night, their smaller hands slapping firmly into his pads and avoiding his claws with years of experience, Bepo knew they considered their mischief a success on all fronts.

He agreed.